


She Killed That Bastard Dead

by skeletonrae



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, tomione kink meme, tomione kinkmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 06:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletonrae/pseuds/skeletonrae
Summary: Tomione Kink Meme 2019!The Prompt:Hermione was almost certain that'd she be able to get over the death of her childhood sweetheart. She assured everyone she would be alright. It would be hard. It would take time. But she would eventually move on.That is, she would have, if only he didn't just come strolling through her front door looking healthier, happier and more handsome than ever before - a mere week after his funeral.She was almost fooled, too. Tom's miraculous recovery nearly blinded Hermione and had her join the others in celebrating his return. But Tom was now acting strange, cold and all too different. Something just wasn't right. But, she would do her best to stay resolute and keep herself safe from his dark purposes. After all, she was there the night he died.And she had made certain that she had killed the bastard dead.





	She Killed That Bastard Dead

Hermione made a great many choices she’d rather not think about.

It was war. She was a general, under Harry and partnered with Ron, and touch decisions had to be made daily. She lost a great many people, all of whom she loved dearly.

She counted them, all her loved ones. Kept account of whom died, and when. But of every decision she made, this one was unconscious. Hermione’s brain simply worked like that; it catalogued and remembered.

She considered it a curse, but now it’s more bittersweet than anything. Official records had been burned in fires, the tangible memories of those lost long gone. Hermione was left, the only one who knew the hundreds and thousands of names.

Hannah Abbott, beheaded. Ludo Bagman, disappeared. Katie Bell, abducted and never heard from again. Amelia Bones, publicly executed. Susan Bones, made to watch and then join her aunt. Terry Boot, gone. Lavender Brown, gone. Millicent Bulstrode, Mary Cattermole, Cho Chang, Penelope Clearwater- her engagement to Percy Weasley not even worn off-, Michael Corner, Colin Creevey, his brother Dennis, Dirk Cresswell...

The list was never ending, and Hermione was so tired. It was only Harry and her left, Ron having been murdered not two hours ago.

They were in an abandoned Muggle factory, a refuge for nothing more than a few days. They were leaving now. Hermione worked in a fog, her hands methodically casting spells to disassemble what had essentially been their headquarters.

“Hermione,” Harry began, his hand falling on her shoulder. “Ron... knew the risks. He did what he had to.”

Hermione turned into his hand, enveloping him in a hug.

“I know,” she choked on her own words, tears silently tracking their way across her dirty face. “I know, you know- we all know the risks. But Harry, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m so tired of making the hard- but right, I know they’re right- decisions. I’m... I just want to stop sometimes.”

Harry lowered his head on top of her chin. He had grown very tall over the years, abandoning his scrawny and malnourished frame for something more lithe, more mature. He still was too skinny, though. They all were. (War is kind to no one but monsters).

“We have to. The spell is almost complete, don’t tell me it’s not. We don’t have time for anything more.”

The separated and finished their tasks, both silently doing what used to be Ron’s chores. The rain pattered relentlessly against the metal roof, thunder rumbling quietly yet steadily in the distance. Hermione felt gross. Ron was gone, and Harry and she were barely any closer than before to their objective. Harry really was being too optimistic.

They were going to time travel.

This world was war-torn, the muggles having caught wind of their civil war and engaging. The mix between the magic and muggle was disastrous for everyone- scientists abducted magicals and incorporated their inherent magic into bombs. It was a new type of mass murder, worse than even chemical bombing.

Hermione was sick of it, and her two best friends agreed. They devised a desperate plan, one thought up in the early morning hours after days of no sleep.

They were going to time travel.

They worked on it whenever they could, using knowledge left over from their schooling, their mentors, and any books they could find. It had been in the workings for years, with other things (the war) being first priority.

Ron had been a wonder at spell creating, as it turned out. It was all very mathematical, and while Hermione could have done it, Ron seemed to find the work soothing. Or rather, he used to.

They were going to time travel.

The pair looked up in alarm when they heard an explosion in the distance.

“They’re getting closer,” Harry said, “We should get a move on.”

Hermione agreed, walking over to grab Harry’s arm.

They disapparated to the nearest checkpoint, thirty kilometers to the south. Over and over they magicked themselves father away, until they were in Cornwall near the coast. There, they found their last safe house, Shell Cottage. Hermione and Harry both paused in exhaustion and remembrance. Although they had been taking turns with their magic, neither of them were at their physical peak. Not only that, but Hermione suspected that magic was disappearing.

Not from the world, really, but from the use of wizards. Wilde Magick was still ever present, but casting spells was becoming more and more exhausting.

Shell Cottage also brought along a great many memories, not all pleasant.

Hermione looked the other way when Harry parted from her to visit Dobby’s grave.

It began to rain. Tonight would be draining, Hermione already knew.

She went inside to begin the fusi9n

They were going to time travel.

...

Creating a spell was not hard. In fact, Hermione created a spell to get rid of tinnitus in humans for her graduation project.

Mostly, it's runic and mathmatically based. Hermione first researched the runes for ears, ringing, stop, then used formulae to geographically arrange the runes into a workable spell. Upon completing that, she began experiments to test the runes through various means, eventually determining its safety for human use.

Once it became a workable rune, she then converted it into verbal use, the most complicated part. It required the working rune, a ritual, and an extensive knowledge of magical tendencies.

All in all, her project took half the schoolyear to finish.

Time travelling was a far more... complicated endeavor.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry were in the runic phase until just recently; they had started two years ago.

Harry believed they were ready to begin the fusion of runes, but Ron had argued for a more cautious approach; test a little bit more, make sure all the runes would work well together, we don't want to experience the equivalent of a splinch Harry.

Hermione agreed with Ron, but now Ron was dead. Murdered right in front of their eyes for fighting for what he believed in. A hero's death, as unsatisfying a title that is.

The war should never have happened, no one should have died.

Tom Riddle was a bastard, and Hermione had sworn long ago to end him- no matter what means necessary.

They were going to time travel.

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys i have no excuse. i promise my other fics aren't abandoned... they're just. slow updates. :)


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